


Coming Home

by cheyennesunrise



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyennesunrise/pseuds/cheyennesunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes back on a Tuesday. Set some time after Aletheia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Harold Finch wasn’t expecting the phone to ring that morning.

He wasn’t expecting it at _all,_ really.

He glanced at the caller ID- _unknown-_ and swallowed hard.

His mouth was as dry as a bone, and his tongue was heavy and uncooperative as he parted his lips.

“Hello?”

There was the worrying buzz of static, and then a faint, familiar voice.

“Finch?”

“John?” He choked on the syllable, pronouncing the name with the twin emotions of disbelief and desperation.

Harold waited. He felt the tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

“Say something, John,” he said brokenly.

His voice was thick with sorrow, but he made no attempt to hide it.

“ _Please_.”

There was a shuffling sound, and Harold swallowed a sob.

“Finch,” John said softly, and then, “Harold.”

John’s voice was a thin, reedy whisper, and Harold felt a tear slide down his cheek.

“Where are you, John?” he managed.

“I’m right outside.”

Harold exhaled slowly, and then his eyes widened in astonishment as he realized what John was saying.

“Now?” he whispered, and the word was a breath of air, a vapor.

Harold took a faltering step toward the staircase, and his heart pounded wildly as he heard the distant clang of the library door.

Bear ran ahead of him, shooting down the stairs, and his tail was wagging like a flag twisting in the breeze.

Harold stopped at the landing. He drew in a shuddering breath and blinked rapidly as John stared up at him.

Bear barked excitedly as John moved wordlessly up the stairs, clearing them in three quick strides.

Harold felt the phone slide from his clammy fingers, and he regarded John with cautious wonder, reverent awe.

He was almost afraid to touch John for fear that he would disappear again.

“John, I-,” Harold began.

He dropped his gaze and blinked hard. Harold’s eyes were still wet, but he didn’t care.

He opened his mouth again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and John’s arms were around him in an instant, wrapping him in a desperate embrace.

Harold felt John’s tears on the crown of his head, and he leaned in closer. He circled his arms around John and felt a noiseless sob pass through the taller man’s body.

It moved through them like electricity, and Harold cradled John’s head as he wept.

“Welcome home, John.”


End file.
